


Sorry (It's Okay)

by misato



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Party, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:40:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9483242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misato/pseuds/misato
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki’s eighteen years old.His soulmate tattoo is on the inside of his left wrist.It says: “Sorry.”It’s kind of funny, because Yuuri’s always the one apologizing to everyone.





	

Yuuri Katsuki’s eighteen years old.

His soulmate tattoo is on the inside of his left wrist.

It says: “Sorry.”

It’s kind of funny, because Yuuri’s always the one apologizing to everyone. 

“Sorry,” he’ll say, when he bumps into someone in the hallway at school.

“Sorry,” he’ll say, when he takes more than a few seconds to fumble through his wallet for change at the grocery store.

“Sorry,” he’ll say, when he forgets to do his Trigonometry homework for the third day in a row.

But Yuuri’s tattoo says that someone will apologize to him, one day.

He doesn’t think it’ll be the day of Phichit’s graduation party.

He doesn’t even want to  _ go  _ to the party in the first place.

But reluctantly, he does.

Despite Phichit’s claims that it was going to be “lit as fuck,” there ends up being absolutely no alcohol involved. This isn’t all that disappointing, because Yuuri had only ever had bad experiences with drinking.

But the lack of drinking does make him a little bit more awkward.

Alcohol helps him loosen up, even if it is in a bad way, so he’s tense the whole night.

At around eleven o’clock, he wanders over to get a soda, and he and someone else reach for the last can of orange soda at the same time.

“Sorry!” the guy says.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri says, automatically.

He doesn’t even think about the mark on his wrist; for some reason, it slips his mind.

The guy looks at him kind of curiously, and then smiles at him.

“What’s your name?”

“Me?” Yuuri says, looking around bewilderedly, as if he would be referring to anyone else.

This guy is cute; he’s got short silver hair that sweeps into a fringe, and a smile like no other. He’s wearing a flannel and really, really tight black skinny jeans.

He laughs. God, it’s a beautiful sound.

“Yes, you,” he says.

“I’m Yuuri,” Yuuri says. 

“Yuuri,” the other guy hums, and his name sounds so much prettier on this guy’s lips. “You can have it.”

“No, it’s fine,” Yuuri mumbles, his anxiety getting the better of him.

He can’t even meet the other guy’s eyes. It’s so embarrassing that his hands start to tremble and his throat goes tight: the tell-tale signs of a panic attack, and it’s brought on by-

“Viktor,” the guy says, smiling and slipping his strong, warm hands into Yuuri’s own, and  _ fuck _ the soda, because holy  _ shit _ . “Do you want to dance?”

“Yeah, okay,” Yuuri says, even though he’s never danced before.

Viktor takes him by one hand and drags him into the crowd of people, where Phichit spots them both, and rushes over, looking bubbly as ever.

“Hey, Viktor!” Phichit says, and then looks at Yuuri and winks.

Yuuri wants to drop dead right then and there.

“Viktor graduated last year, but he was the president of the GSA before I was. Plus, he’s a pretty cool guy. So I invited him,” Phichit explains, then turning to Viktor, says: “This is Yuuri, he’s my best friend.”

“Why didn’t you ever come to GSA?” Viktor wonders, asking in the most subtle way if Yuuri swings that way.

“Oh, I’m really anxious around new people,” Yuuri says, a little ashamed. “But I am gay, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Viktor laughs again, and Yuuri would do anything to hear that sound a thousand times more. 

“You’re cute, Yuuri. Let’s dance.”

A slow song is playing, and Yuuri remembers the awkwardness of middle school dances and stiff swaying, but Viktor pulls him close anyway. His movements are fluid, and Yuuri never thought he could be good at dancing until now. Viktor doesn’t break eye contact. There’s so much tension that Yuuri’s trembling, and he might be half-hard, but God, he doesn’t even care. Viktor’s amazing. They’ve sort of built up a rhythm when Viktor whispers in his ear:

“I need to show you something.”

He finds himself being dragged up the stairs and into the guest bedroom of Phichit’s house. Yuuri has no idea what’s happening until Viktor turns around and pulls up his T-shirt, just a little.

On his lower back reads two words:

“It’s okay,” Yuuri says out loud, and then: “Oh, fuck.”

He rolls up his sleeve and stares at the word that brands his wrist in solid black lettering, an apology that he never thought he’d get.

He feels like an idiot.

“Yeah,” Viktor smiles, a little brokenly, and tugs his shirt back down. “I thought you were cute, so I was going to go talk to you, but then-”

“Then…”

“You’re my soulmate, Yuuri.”

“Oh,” Yuuri says. “I guess you’re right.”

He’s always saying the dumbest things, but Viktor just laughs and strides forward before kissing him on the mouth, warm and sweet.

It’s definitely not Yuuri’s first kiss, but it’s probably the best one he’s had yet, even if he’s standing in the middle of a tacky guest bedroom with shitty music blaring through the walls.

It’s so nice that Yuuri wants to cry.

“Yuuri, are you-”

“No,” Yuuri says, wiping his eyes. “This is just…”

“Yeah,” Viktor breathes. “I didn’t know my soulmate would be this…”

“Awkward?”

“Beautiful,” he says, and it’s reverent, as if he’s wondering how he got so lucky.

“Oh,” Yuuri says, his voice very small. “I mean, thank you.”

“I guess we shouldn’t move too fast, though,” Viktor says, even though he sounds like he really doesn’t want to say it.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says. “Or…” 

“Or what?” Viktor teases.

Yuuri feels a boost of confidence out of nowhere, and he finishes his sentence without stuttering:

“Or I could blow you right now.”

“Oh,” Viktor says, and Yuuri flushes pink, which suits him. “You don’t have to, but like... _ please _ .”

“I want to,” Yuuri murmurs, dropping to his knees and undoing the button to those sinful skinny jeans.

Viktor’s already half-hard, and Yuuri’s breath ghosts over the fabric.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, his name like a wish melting on his tongue.

Yuuri mouths lightly over his cock through his underwear before taking his erection out of his boxers and stroking it to hardness.

He’s done this before, a couple times, but Viktor is pretty big.

Like, really big. Blessed, even.

He tries to remember all the tips he’s read online, but he keeps gagging whenever he tries to swallow Viktor’s cock deeper. He fills up his mouth so nicely, though. And Viktor will not stop moaning. If no one at this party knew Yuuri’s name before, they definitely know it now. Eventually, he gets into a rhythm, using his hands to rub at what he mouth can’t fit.

“Fuck, Yuuri,” Viktor gasps out, and his hips tremble as he comes into Yuuri’s mouth.

Yuuri pulls off, swallowing thickly, before unbuttoning his pants and rubbing the heel of his hand against his erection.

“Viktor, please,” he mumbles, and Viktor kneels down and kisses him, one perfect hand working his cock.

“Come for me, Yuuri,” he says, and Yuuri does.

The trip back downstairs is an awkward one; they both look ravished, with wet lips and mussed hair. Even Phichit averts his eyes. 

“I’m thirsty,” Yuuri says, glancing at Viktor.

They split the last can of orange soda.

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! thanks for reading!
> 
> also, catch me at katsucon B) i'm cosplaying long hair!viktor


End file.
